of trees and open land could be glimpsed under the moon.
“We’ll drive out of this farmland,” she said, her voice sounding none too strong. “There’s sure to be a junction on the highway soon. Whichever way there’s a turn, take it. We’ll drive for a while, find a safe place to stop.”
She shifted awkwardly in the seat, changing position.
Pikul glanced across at her, suddenly contrite.
“I’d almost forgotten—you’ve been shot. How are you feeling?”
She turned away from him again. “It’s stopped bleeding,” she said quietly, “and it isn’t hurting as much. It’s gone all numb. I can hold on for a while. But I guess you’re right: I’ve been shot.”
“I’ve never been near anyone being shot before,” Pikul said.
“Me neither.”
“I kind of thought . . .”
“What?”
“Well, you know, needing a security guard. Normal people don’t have a security guard.”
“Normal people don’t get fired at by maniacs holding dead animals.”
“That’s kind of what I’m saying. Sorry.” He stared ahead at the uncertain destination. “You know, about being shot . . . it was almost as if you were expecting it.”
“I expect you to get me home safely. That’s all.”
“All right.”
The vehicle lurched wildly again.
He noticed that she was still gripping the injured shoulder with her free hand. The rolling motion of the Rover must have been agony for her, whatever she said.
After a few more minutes the vehicle rose slightly and they crossed a smoother stretch of road. Girders flashed by on both sides, and they saw a glimpse of a broad river silver in the night. Then they were back on the regular highway surface, lurching on the ill-maintained blacktop. There had been a turnoff just past the bridge. Pikul slowed the vehicle to walking speed, then wheeled it around in a U-turn in the dark. He headed back. Moments later they saw the bridge again, and Pikul turned the Land Rover through the small intersection. Driving slowly again, running alongside the river, he followed the narrow road through a swathe of overhanging trees. Insects hovered brightly in the beams of their headlights. Soon the road turned toward the north, climbing through wilder country. When they came out from the trees there was no more sign of the river. The mountains were ahead of them, much closer now.
“Have you any idea where we are?” he said to her.
“Not now. Keep going. This must lead somewhere into the mountains. That’s okay, because I know places we could go.”
The Land Rovers movements were suddenly much easier to live with.
Several minutes later, Pikul said reflectively, “I normally like the countryside, don’t you? It’s usually relaxing and calm.”
“That’s only if you don’t know what’s going on.”
“What do you mean?”
“There is great stress and anger and violence in the countryside,” Allegra said, with unexpected vehemence. She’d swiveled in her seat to stare across at him. For a moment he thought she was going to do something inexplicable and violent against him; there was a sense of darkness and mystery in her that was not wholly explained by the wound she had suffered. He glanced back at the road, then at her. “There are thousands of life-forms everywhere in the countryside,” she went on. “All screaming me! me! me! and trying to kill and dominate and devour the other life-forms. It’s a terrifying and exhausting place!”
She fell silent, looking out into the dark night.
“Well, I like the countryside,” Pikul said lamely.
“That’s good. Because I reckon you might end up spending a lot of time out here.”
“I might?”
“Sure. If you go back home to the city, they’ll be waiting for you.”
“They?”
“Yeah. My assassins. The ones you thwarted. They’ll probably want to have a little talk with you about where I am.”
Pikul thought about that for a moment. “Don’t you think,” he said, “that might have been just one crazy guy
“We’ll drive out of this farmland,” she said, her voice sounding none too strong. “There’s sure to be a junction on the highway soon. Whichever way there’s a turn, take it. We’ll drive for a while, find a safe place to stop.”
She shifted awkwardly in the seat, changing position.
Pikul glanced across at her, suddenly contrite.
“I’d almost forgotten—you’ve been shot. How are you feeling?”
She turned away from him again. “It’s stopped bleeding,” she said quietly, “and it isn’t hurting as much. It’s gone all numb. I can hold on for a while. But I guess you’re right: I’ve been shot.”
“I’ve never been near anyone being shot before,” Pikul said.
“Me neither.”
“I kind of thought . . .”
“What?”
“Well, you know, needing a security guard. Normal people don’t have a security guard.”
“Normal people don’t get fired at by maniacs holding dead animals.”
“That’s kind of what I’m saying. Sorry.” He stared ahead at the uncertain destination. “You know, about being shot . . . it was almost as if you were expecting it.”
“I expect you to get me home safely. That’s all.”
“All right.”
The vehicle lurched wildly again.
He noticed that she was still gripping the injured shoulder with her free hand. The rolling motion of the Rover must have been agony for her, whatever she said.
After a few more minutes the vehicle rose slightly and they crossed a smoother stretch of road. Girders flashed by on both sides, and they saw a glimpse of a broad river silver in the night. Then they were back on the regular highway surface, lurching on the ill-maintained blacktop. There had been a turnoff just past the bridge. Pikul slowed the vehicle to walking speed, then wheeled it around in a U-turn in the dark. He headed back. Moments later they saw the bridge again, and Pikul turned the Land Rover through the small intersection. Driving slowly again, running alongside the river, he followed the narrow road through a swathe of overhanging trees. Insects hovered brightly in the beams of their headlights. Soon the road turned toward the north, climbing through wilder country. When they came out from the trees there was no more sign of the river. The mountains were ahead of them, much closer now.
“Have you any idea where we are?” he said to her.
“Not now. Keep going. This must lead somewhere into the mountains. That’s okay, because I know places we could go.”
The Land Rovers movements were suddenly much easier to live with.
Several minutes later, Pikul said reflectively, “I normally like the countryside, don’t you? It’s usually relaxing and calm.”
“That’s only if you don’t know what’s going on.”
“What do you mean?”
“There is great stress and anger and violence in the countryside,” Allegra said, with unexpected vehemence. She’d swiveled in her seat to stare across at him. For a moment he thought she was going to do something inexplicable and violent against him; there was a sense of darkness and mystery in her that was not wholly explained by the wound she had suffered. He glanced back at the road, then at her. “There are thousands of life-forms everywhere in the countryside,” she went on. “All screaming me! me! me! and trying to kill and dominate and devour the other life-forms. It’s a terrifying and exhausting place!”
She fell silent, looking out into the dark night.
“Well, I like the countryside,” Pikul said lamely.
“That’s good. Because I reckon you might end up spending a lot of time out here.”
“I might?”
“Sure. If you go back home to the city, they’ll be waiting for you.”
“They?”
“Yeah. My assassins. The ones you thwarted. They’ll probably want to have a little talk with you about where I am.”
Pikul thought about that for a moment. “Don’t you think,” he said, “that might have been just one crazy guy